


the day that never came

by bukkunkun



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crying, Data-Riku Is Literally Siri, Data-Sora Is His Antivirus, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Forehead Kisses, Lots of Crying, M/M, Memory Related, Missing Scene, Platonic Cuddling, Points of View, birthday angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 16:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14116092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunkun
Summary: This year, with Sora comatose, he couldn’t tell if his present was perfect.But he knew it wasright.“I owe you my life, Sora,” He murmured, “So that’s what I’ll give you, until the day you don’t need me anymore.”Data-Sora and Data-Riku make a discovery in the journal.





	the day that never came

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [runs on happy faces](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115945) by [bukkunkun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunkun). 



> > march 28 is a national holiday. it's the day my beloved son and saviour sora debuted and therefore is his birthday and i love him so much im so grateful he exists also it will be my ao3 comeback thanks to again my son
>> 
>> — bukkun @ SORA LOVES YOU (@trickscd) [25 March 2018](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/977846114014568449?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw)
> 
> **if you came here from the other fic, hello hello!** if you're wondering what the other fic is, [here it is!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115945/) written as part 2 of 2, but reading one does not require you read the other. **headcanons ahoy!** i love the idea of making data-riku basically mickey's siri and i'd love to give a shout out to whomever it was on tumblr who suggested it. i've long lost the original post, i'm so sorry... also partially inspired by that one re:coded doujin where data sora, riku and roxas lived together as mickey's virtual assistants.
> 
> happy 16th anniversary, kingdom hearts! you've done so much for me than you could ever know. i would not be here, writing, if it weren't for you, back then, and even now. i said i would give up writing entirely, but months later, i am back, dealing with my unstable mental health better than before, and it's all thanks to you and the sheer joy you bring me. yes, even if khux comes up with the worst bullshit requirements during proud mode and i don't get to use my perfect, perfect illustrated riku ex medal. i love you. thank you for teaching me friendship and that being edgy isn't the best thing ever and that hey maybe being nice and having friends is a good thing.
> 
> and most importantly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET, PRECIOUS SON SORA, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BABY BOY YOU'VE GROWN UP SO MUCH :^((((( the franchise is now as old as sora may be in kh3. i can't wait for it to come out, killing me instantly.
> 
> this day also marks my comeback to ao3. i hope you'll still have me, even after i have left.
> 
> (this fic comes in a two-parter, the first part is [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115945/) for everyone who's into some sweet sweet family trinity trio feels.)

Data Riku and Data Sora had taken to looking over the newly-restored journal data after they themselves had been restored. Mickey couldn’t quite let the both of them go—and they were so helpful in running the computer the little King himself couldn’t quite completely understand.

In an oddball way, Data Riku ended up giving up his battle capabilities to fully oversee the journal’s maintenance, leaving him completely dependent on Data Sora to keep him safe.

It wasn’t like he minded—he was sure the bugs were gone now, and so were Maleficent and Pete. Still, it was nice to have company, especially when he started digging into _other_ things that weren’t originally in the journal.

Their home hub was a small shack-like cottage in the middle of the Datascape—programmed right into the system by the chipmunk brothers to give them a place to stay. Data Riku hadn’t really minded what it looked like, but Data Sora had insisted it look like a normal home in the real world, drawing inspiration from the play island the real Sora and Riku used to live in. They even had a couch, two bedrooms and a kitchen—not that Data Riku ever found a reason to use them, but Data Sora always seemed to try making one thing or another for the both of them when he wasn’t out on routine file checks.

Today, though, while they waited for Mickey and the others to finish preparing to head off for Yen Sid’s Mysterious Tower, Data Riku decided to start opening files he had set aside when the restoration happened. He settled down on the couch in his and Data Sora’s tiny home, and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” He said to himself, “Here goes.”

Frowning in concentration, he let the holograms of each data file pass his vision one after the other in rapid succession. Ever since he gave up his Soul Eater, he had an easier time looking through all the files inside him—freeing up memory really did speed up the process of things.

“Hey.” Data Sora greeted, sitting heavily down next to him on the couch, snuggling close to try taking a look at the files Data Riku was processing. “What’s going on there? Where’d you get those?”

“Well, ever since we heard from you and King Mickey about the extra data in the journal, I’d been gathering some extra bytes that weren’t there in the initial sweep.” Data Riku replied, and Data Sora hummed thoughtfully.

“So you’re looking through them now?” He asked, cocking his head, and Data Riku nodded.

“Yeah. There seems to be quite a few, and I wanna make sure King Mickey and the others hear about it before they go.”

“Oh.” Data Sora shuffled around in his place nervously, and after a moment’s hesitation, spoke again. “Can I see it with you?”

Data Riku blinked at him, and the brunet laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry. I was just—um, curious. About all the other stuff in the journal that isn’t supposed to be there.” He looked at the flashing hologram in front of Data Riku’s face, and sighed. “I know that this journal’s supposed to be about me, right? But knowing that there’s a lot of stuff there that _isn’t_ me… it’s kinda…”

“Weird?” Data Riku smiled fondly, and Data Sora laughed.

“I guess.” He shrugged, but he snuggled close when Data Riku moved aside his arm to leave a space right next to him. “So, you don’t mind?”

“I could use the protection.” Data Riku replied dryly, but he was smiling. “After all, you _are_ my hero.”

“Aw, Riku.” Data Sora stuck his tongue out at him, and hugged his torso. “I’ll keep all the bugs away from you when we go in and look.”

“There are no more bugs left,” Data Riku delicately corrected him, but made no move to push Sora off him. “I’m not _too_ worried about not getting through things unscathed.” He shrugged, “It’s just reading data.”

“I know,” Data Sora pouted, “I just wanted to say it.”

“Of course you did.” Data Riku replied fondly, and settled down on one byte in front of him. He looked at Data Sora, who grinned back at him. “We’ll go together?”

He offered Data Sora his hand, and the brunet nodded.

“Yeah.” He said, and took Data Riku’s hand.

* * *

_This was my fault._

_Every year without fail, we would gather at his house to throw a surprise he knew was coming, but every single time he would be so caught off-guard by it, it made everything so worthwhile to do anyway._

_There would be fairy lights strung up inside coloured glass bulbs, yellow paper stars would cover the ceiling and the walls with well-wishes, confetti would fly and some would catch on my hair for him to pull out, giggling as he always did when he saw pink in the sea that was my hair. There would be a cake, presents—singing, food, laughter, music._

_There would be so much happiness in a single living room, in a single afternoon, for the one most precious person in my life._

_I was such a fool. I was so stupid, so focused on gaining power, I never realised what I was losing along the way._

When Data Riku and Data Sora opened their eyes, they realised they stood together in a sterile white room, an equally sterile white lotus pod in front of them, the only thing in the room that both stood out and blended in the void the light maid in lack of darkness around them.

Data Sora had seen this room before. It felt… familiar, and he realised it was that same room he saw that girl in white in, the same room where he and Mickey stood hand in hand, watching as the fates of so many young people feel into darkness, scattered pieces that still lay in their places until that very day. At the time, he didn’t know what was going on—until now, he didn’t quite grasp the whole idea—but the most important thing did stay:

Sora—the real one—had slept in that same pod they were looking at right now.

“What’s going on?” Data Sora asked softly, but Data Riku shook his head.

“I think I have an idea.” He said, and Data Sora realised his voice had been the same as the one who had been speaking—the author of that byte of journal data—a memory?—they had dived into.

Still hand in hand, Data Riku and Data Sora walked around the pod to see a kneeling figure in front of the pod, curled up in a ball around something on the ground. The figure was wearing the same black coat that Data Riku was, and had the same silver hair that was on Data Riku’s head.

Data Sora’s eyes widened. “Oh, Riku! That’s you!”

“As I suspected.” He frowned. “This is the real Riku’s memory.”

“Huh?” Data Sora cocked his head at him. “But how’d it get here?”

“I’m not sure.” Data Riku replied, and his eyes glazed over. “There’s more data. I’m gonna play it out, okay?”

“O-okay.”

_It’s my fault. I did this to him._

_This year, there is no surprise party. No singing, and happy smiles. No presents. No friends._

_Just me. And him. But only one of us is awake._

_I don’t know why I did this, but I did. Talking to Naminé about him probably made me do it._

_I got a slice of cake from that little bakery in Twilight Town, the one—_

A loud, grating screech cut off Riku’s voice, and the two flinched, Data Riku clutching at his temple in pain. Gritting his teeth past the pain, Data Sora helped Data Riku steady himself.

“Y-you okay?” He asked, and Data Riku nodded.

“L-looks like—like redacted data.” He said. “Forcibly, but it’s not like someone dug in here and deleted files.”

Data Sora looked at him worriedly. “What do you mean?” He asked.

“It’s like someone took a page of the journal and ripped it out.” Data Riku winced. “I can still keep playing it, though. Hold on.”

— _likes. She, Roxas and Axel come there sometimes when she wanted a change from the usual ice cream she got with them._

_She’s exactly like him in that regard. Like a whole new Sora walking around with Kairi’s face. She keeps reminding me of my sins, and I hate it._

_I know it’s not her fault. It’s unfair to blame her for anything._

_But god, it hurts so much. It hurts, waiting on nothing like this. It hurts, knowing I did this to him, that I’m the reason why he’s missing out on today._

“What’s he talking about?” Data Sora asked, “What were you talking about, Riku?” he looked down at the softly panting Data Riku, who shook his head and straightened up, albeit with some difficulty. Data Sora helped him the rest of the way, and they realised that the figure had sat back, letting them see he was now sitting down on the ground with a small box in front of him.

“I think,” Data Riku waved his hand, and the box disappeared in a burst of pixels, and was replaced by a single slice of chocolate cake on a plate. “That’s what that was.”

Data Sora’s eyes widened in amazement at it. “Cake! Now I want cake…”

Data Riku huffed. “We don’t need to eat.” He said, and Data Sora pouted at him.

“I mean, I _remember_ what eating a cake is like. It’s nice! You eat it with family and friends, and there’s pretty lights in a coloured bottle, and…” Data Sora stopped, and Data Riku cocked his head at him. “Riku…?”

“What’s wrong?” He asked, but he jolted when Data Sora reached forward to wipe a tear that had rolled down his cheek. Data Riku gasped softly, reeling back away from Data Sora to grasp at his face, but Data Sora was faster, and wiped his tears away from him. “What’s—what’s this—”

Data Sora looked over his shoulder at the apparition of Riku, and realised he had his face buried in his hands as well, kneeling before the slice of cake on the floor.

“Riku,” he said softly, “What day was this memory made on?”

“I-I’ll go take a look,” Data Riku sniffled, and he closed his eyes.

Data Sora approached the other Riku, and knelt down beside him.

“Oh, Riku…” He sighed, holding his hand. He knew it would do nothing, this was nothing but a memory, but Data Sora just couldn’t leave him like that. Not without trying something— _anything._

He looked down at the cake slice in front of Riku, and felt tears well up in his own eyes.

He knew a memory like this somewhere in his head, before. A snippet of something included in his programming like a system file that couldn’t be removed.

“ _Happy birthday, Sora!_ ”

The earliest memory he had of a birthday party had two little boys—4 and 5 years old—smiling and laughing together, smearing chocolate on each other’s cheeks.

“It was my birthday.” He breathed, his eyes widening, as behind him Data Riku’s eyes finally cleared again.

“March 28.” He gasped, and Data Sora hurried onto his feet to look at his friend. “March 28, that’s—”

“My birthday.” Data Sora finished.

“Birthday.” Data Riku ran his hand through his hair. “Now it makes sense.”

“Huh?”

And the world around them flooded with light.

* * *

His footsteps echoed through the lonely room, and every step he took made him feel even lonelier as he approached the pod in the middle. In his hands was a simple white box that fit snugly between his palms, and a pink ribbon tied around it bounced with with his movement.

He looked up at the pod in front of him—he had his blindfold on, but he didn’t need it off to see.

Floating inside the stasis pod, Sora slept—peacefully and soundly.

Vulnerably—

But safe. While he still breathed, he would always make sure Sora slept in absolute safety.

Like he was making an offering, he knelt down at the foot of the pod, setting the box down onto the ground reverently, as if making any noise would wake Sora up inside.

Truthfully, he had wished Sora would wake up for this. He wished Sora could open his blue, blue eyes once again and smile at him the way he always had back on the islands.

He wished he could hold Sora’s hand again, to hear him say his name again with joy in his voice, a smile on his lips.

“ _Riku!_ ”

But because of him and his own blind obsession with strength, Sora couldn’t, not for at least another half-year.

“Happy birthday, Sora.” He said softly, mostly to himself, than anyone else. “I know it’s lonely, and I’m probably the last person you’d want to be with for this right now, but…” he opened the box to reveal a slice of chocolate cake.

_Her_ favourite, and he knew, because of how _she_ was, that it would be Sora’s favourite, too.

“I didn’t forget. I’ll never forget.”

Naminé had respected his wishes when he said he never wanted to forget Sora the way the rest of his world had while she restored Sora’s memories.

After all, she had said, she couldn’t tamper with his most precious memories even if she wanted to.

Somehow, the strength of his heart protected the memories he held closest to it—every single moment he spent with Sora, locked away safely under lock and key.

“I don’t know what I can do to right the wrongs I’ve done to you. To Kairi. To our home,” He clenched his fist over his heart, and his lips turned down into a severe frown. “But everything I do, everything I _will_ do, is all for your sake. I will do whatever it takes for you to wake up.”

He always somehow knew what to get for Sora when his birthday rolled around. He’d been getting it right since they were little boys, that Kairi often found herself competitively trying to outdo Riku’s presents to him—to no avail.

She succeeded during Valentine’s Days, but Riku had the upper hand during Sora’s birthdays.

This year, with Sora comatose, he couldn’t tell if his present was perfect.

But he knew it was _right._

“I owe you my life, Sora,” He murmured, “So that’s what I’ll give you, until the day you don’t need me anymore.”

He knew it was coming—he knew someday, Sora would no longer need him the way he did now, the way he ever did before, and oddly enough, there was peace inside him at the thought of it.

Perhaps it was what he deserved, after all.

He stuck the provided candle into the slice, and lit it up with a tiny Fire spell.

“Happy birthday to you,” he sang softly, and in the darkness of his vision, two young boys crowded around a chocolate cake with candles, singing together what he started.

“ _Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Sora!_ ”

The way Sora smiled back then was the same as the way he smiled now.

Riku didn’t know if he could ever smile the way he used to ever again.

“Happy birthday to you.”

His voice was quivering before he blew out the candle, and as the light extinguished, his own resolve crumbled, and Riku buried his face in his hands to sob quietly.

Far behind him, in the doorway leading into the pod room, Naminé wiped a tear away from her cheek, before walking away, more determined than ever to finish restoring Sora as fast as she can.

She could hear the sound of Riku’s heart breaking. The sound of despair, mixing with the deafening silence of the sterile white around them.

There were more hurts that needed to be undone, for sure. Perhaps the journal could do with a few more memories inside it.

* * *

Data Sora and Data Riku let out twin gasps as the both of them came to, realising they were back on the couch of their little home, holding onto each other tightly.

“Naminé.” Data Riku breathed.

“That was—the girl. In white. She was the one who put the extra stuff in the journals.” Data Sora looked at his companion. “Even some of your—uh, _Riku’s_ memories.”

The two of them finally looked at each other, and Data Sora deflated, smiling fondly at the tear tracks still left on Data Riku’s cheeks. He wiped them away gently as the other’s pale skin turned pink, and when he was done, Data Riku whipped his head away from him, hiding his face behind his hand.

“You okay?” Data Sora asked, and Data Riku gave him a muffled reply. “Huh?”

“I _said,_ ” Data Riku huffed, taking his hand off his face. “Thanks. For the wiping. I wouldn’t have noticed that.”

Data Sora smiled fondly. “Glad to help.” He said. “So, should we tell them?”

“Huh?” Data Riku cocked his head at Data Sora, who shrugged.

“Mickey and the others.” He clarified. “I don't think they know about this.”

“Oh.” Data Riku sniffled. “You’re right.” He got up from the couch, and headed to the door. He stopped, and looked over his shoulder at Data Sora.

“Hey,” he said, and the brunet cocked his head. “I’m gonna need a hero to help me through the datascape.” Data Sora’s face broke out into a wide smile, and he quickly got up onto his feet, hurrying to Data Riku’s side to hold his hand.

Data Riku smiled softly, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear.

“Oh, and on your birthday, I’ll try using the kitchen this time.” He said, and Data Sora blinked at him, eyes wide.

“Aw, Riku!” Data Sora cheered, tackling him, and Data Riku stifled his laughter as the both of them made their way out of their home.

It was oddly nice to know Sora’s birthday. The day the sole reason for his existence was born.

Something warm settled in Data Riku’s heart, and he held Data Sora’s hand that slight fraction tighter as they walked to go see anyone outside, and while they talked with Donald and Goofy, Data Riku found himself almost impatient for the day to come.

There was a slim chance of him greeting and thanking the real Sora for simply existing, but maybe just celebrating _his_ Sora was just as well—if Mickey, Donald and Goofy could love a bunch of bits and bytes like them, then maybe even that slight amount of effort would be worthwhile.

He knew he could access searchable data now—being King Mickey’s virtual assistant offered him some leeway in in terms of search capabilities—so maybe he could go look for a recipe like the cake in the real Riku’s memory. If Data Sora’s reaction was anything to go by, then maybe trying it out would be a great success in the end.

When their call with Donald and Goofy ended, Data Riku tugged on Data Sora’s hand, and the brunet looked at him.

“Riku?” He asked, and the other teen smiled sheepishly at him.

“I know it’s still early,” he said, “But happy birthday, Sora.” He knew he was blushing—quite visibly, definitely, thanks to his pale skin, but he knew Sora wouldn’t tease him for it.

“Thanks, Riku.” Data Sora said sweetly, but Data Riku shook his head.

“I mean it,” he said, and much to Data Sora’s surprise, pulled him into a hug. “Thank you. For existing. I… really wouldn’t be here, if it wasn’t for you.”

Data Sora huffed at that, and hugged Data Riku back. “Not me, silly. The _real_ me.”

“You’re real enough, for me.” Data Riku laughed softly, and finally, pink crossed Data Sora’s cheeks.

“Well, if you said it, then it’s definitely real!” He nodded. “Thanks, Riku.”

With a giggle, Data Sora planted a kiss on his forehead, and the other teen spluttered, holding his forehead where the brunet kissed him. “S-Sora! Th-that’s… What?”

“Not telling!” Data Sora winked at him. “C’mon, Riku. Let’s go home.”

He offered Data Riku his hand, and the silver-haired boy sighed, making a show of exasperation, but there was no hiding the wide smile he had on his face.

“Home.” He nodded, and took Data Sora’s hand.

_Home is wherever you are, Sora._

_Thank you, truly. Thank you for being you._

**Author's Note:**

> when you're feeling down, always remember that sora loves you and there will always be hope, that light that never goes out. 
> 
> thank you so much for existing.


End file.
